


How to Get a Boyfriend

by 2x2verse (agent_florida)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Humor, Meme, coffeeshop au? idk man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1359328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_florida/pseuds/2x2verse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is JADE HARLEY and you are ON A MISSION.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Get a Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this Tumblr post: http://chocosong.tumblr.com/post/71531507401/how-to-get-a-boyfriend-order-a-cup-of-coffee-to

**Step one. Order a cup of coffee to take out.**

Your name is JADE HARLEY and you are ON A MISSION.

“Hey, Kanaya!” you offer to the barista. She gives you one of her trademarked glowing grins. “What do you recommend for someone who’s about to conquer the world?”

She’s instantaneous with the quips. “A chainsaw and a quad espresso.”

“Hmm.” That’s a good point. “I’ll take two of those thingies.”

“Chainsaws?”

“Espressos, dummy.”

Thankfully, she knows you don’t mean it. She starts pouring out the bean sludge, but keeps chatting with you. “Did you read our sign, perchance?”

“Duh. It’s hilarious. I even think I understand what it means now!” Your grasp of Alternian is tenuous at best, but you’re willing to take the shop up on its offer.

“So,” Kanaya asks you over the sound of the machine hissing as it makes your drinks, “who’s the lucky girl?”

“Guy. And I don’t think he needs coffee, but I’m going to try anyways.”

When you get down to the end of the bar, there’s an extra cruller waiting with your two tall cups. On the wrapper, written in very fancy green script, is Good Luck.

**Step two. Give the coffee to a male you are interested in. Tell him, “If the coffee tastes good, we date. If not, bug off.”**

“Fuckass,” you amiably greet your friend as you sit down across from him at the table.

“Hello to you too, Harley human Jade,” he grumbles. He’s hiding from you behind a really thick textbook. Looks like it’s about programming.

Boooooooooooring! “I brought you something.”

“Is it a fresh, steaming cup of shut the fuck up?”

“Close.” He finally puts his book down to look you in the eye. “It’s coffee. If you like it, we’re gonna fuck. If not, go to hell.”

“I can’t exercise my Hell option, because I’m pretty sure this is it.” Still, he takes what’s offered, weighing it carefully in his hand before he takes a sip.

He swallows. He puts the cup back down on the table. No string of profanities has yet issued. “See you Friday!” you tell him, cheerfully flouncing out of the coffee shop so you can go to class.

**Step three. The coffee at our café is good. It is guaranteed that you will end up dating.**

“Oh, god…”

At least you took him out to dinner first, but now that both of you have had your fill of crappy Americanized Chinese food, it’s straight down to business. Wine, dine, then supine. Or at least that’s the advice Dave’s bro gave you when you asked.

You kinda skipped the wine part, but you already feel a little drunk. Maybe because Karkat’s mouth is at your neck, tongue seeking out your pulse point and sharp fangs barely glancing against your sensitive skin. “That…” you try to tell him, “that feels really good…”

“More of that,” he groans into your throat.

You can totally do that. You have no filter, really. Growing up alone meant you could be as loud as you damn well pleased, whenever you wanted. You don’t even have to fake the little excited sounds that keep coming out of you—not as long as his hands are creeping up your chest and squeezing just right around your boobs and reaching back around to undo your bra.

Yeah. Yeah. That’s good. You contemplate reaching back to help him, but by the time you’ve made your mind up, he’s already unclasped the offending piece of clothing and started pushing your shirt up over your shoulders. “Fast learner,” he mumbles against your mouth before kissing you, hard.

It makes you go all kinda meltylight between your legs. “Shirt, off,” you tell him, nipping at his lip a little in the process of trying to get him as naked as you. The tanned peach of your skin stands out in stark contrast to the slab of gray.

He loses his balance. You stumble with him until he pins you against a wall. Even though you have three inches on him, and even though his body feels lighter than yours, it’s deceptively strong for its size: he easily catches your wrists in one hand and holds them over your head as he starts tracing his mouth down past your collarbones. You shriek in delight when his tongue flicks at a nipple, writhing against his grip but nowhere near hard enough to spring free. Of course he would be obsessed with your nipples. He doesn’t have any.

This new take-charge Karkat is kind of a surprise, but you’re going to roll with it. “How much—hnn,” gets cut off when he dips his tongue into your navel. Ticklish and sensitive all at once. “How much porn have you even watched?” Human, troll, doesn’t matter. That’s the only way he could have gotten so confident about this.

He rolls his eyes at you, growling a little from somewhere deep in his chest. “You think you’re my first? Stutid fuckass.”

“Oh,” you say softly. Then, louder, “Oh!” You definitely weren’t expecting Karkat to have any experience at all. Like, _at all_. This is definitely a pleasant surprise. When he surges up your body and claims your mouth again, the vowel sound gets a lot more breathy all at once, especially considering he’s let go of your wrists to grab both your thighs and wrap them around his waist.

He’s actually holding you up. And he makes it seem completely effortless. You can feel the prickle of his claws through the thick fabric of your long skirt, now bunched up around your hips. And you are so fucking turned on.

“Stay,” he tells you imperiously. Oh, if he weren’t a mutant he’d have made such a good emperor. That tone makes you shiver. And then he’s getting down on one knee, but he’s definitely not about to ask to marry you. You’re a little unbalanced, not quite sure what to do, but before you can set a foot down on the floor to keep yourself upright, Karkat’s literally throwing your legs over his shoulders, not even bothering to take off your skirt before diving up under it. “And for the love of your puny human god, who is actually me, don’t fucking shut up.”

And then he touches his tongue to your clit and you scream.

It feels so good. His tongue is hot. Shit, his entire body seems like it runs a dozen degrees hotter than yours. (You earmark this in the back of your mind for potential future experiments.) It slicks along your own slickness better than you ever would have anticipated. You’re no virgin yourself—even if you hadn’t voided your own warranty, Dave definitely took care of it—but no one’s ever done this. Oh god. It’s devastating, the subtle sensations threatening to outdo you. You need something to hold onto, and you grab blindly for the top of his head.

Of course, your fists find good grips at his horns.

And then Karkat starts purring.

Right up against your vagina.

And you are toast.

It’s one rippling cascade after another, and he doesn’t let you down, just keeps you propped up with his hands sneaking up to play with your breasts as he pries orgasm after shuddering orgasm from your shaking form. Your throat hurts. From somewhere far away, you realize you’re shrieking like a banshee, but it’s impossible to hear over the sound of your own heartbeat. For the finale, Karkat purses his lips flat against you, sucks your clit into his mouth hard, rubs the flat of his teeth against it, and your head knocks back against the wall so hard you see stars, thighs shaking around his ears.

By the time he’s done, all of you is jelly-limbed and satiated. A pleasant sort of heaviness spreads across you from your core. You sigh happily when he pries your legs open, helps you slide down the wall in a way where you won’t actually hurt yourself. So good, it was so good, and you manage to tell him so in slurred, half-mumbled sentences, your eyelids already drooping. Are you drooling? You might be drooling.

Karkat’s standing. You’re vaguely aware that he’s fiddling with the fly of his jeans. “Jade, don’t you fucking dare,” is all you hear from him before your brain turns to static and you fall asleep.

**Step four. If, by chance, you get dumped, then come back. We will give you a cup of hot coffee that you can pour on his face.**

“No, I’m still mad,” you tell Kanaya the next time you see her. “He just left me there, sleeping in his apartment, half-naked, and Gamzee had to take me home!”

“In his defense,” she articulates clearly, messing with the espresso machines, “you did fall asleep on him before returning the favor.”

“I thought he knew,” you whine.

She quirks an eyebrow at you. “How could he have known?”

“I don’t know. Dave could have told him. He tells everyone everything.” Your narcolepsy isn’t exactly a secret, anyway, and simple deduction could have given Karkat all he needed to know. So what that you fall asleep after you orgasm? That’s a common thing, right?

Kanaya brings you out of your reverie. “Here. This should help.” She slides a drink to you.

It’s another quad espresso. “I don’t want this.”

“I know you don’t,” she says pointedly.

You share a conspiratorial grin before you flounce off with your open beverage, calling out a singsong “Oh, Karkat…”


End file.
